


Aftermath

by JuniperCypress



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), One Shot, POV Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Panic Attacks, Post-Calamity Ganon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniperCypress/pseuds/JuniperCypress
Summary: Some time after defeating Ganon, Link faces a different demon. But Zelda is there to face it too.
Relationships: Zelink - Relationship, i guess?? they're just vibing
Comments: 5
Kudos: 107





	Aftermath

She was glad he had given her some form of warning beforehand. Otherwise she may have thought he’d taken an arrow in the chest.

At first it looked like he’d only stumbled on something—unusual enough on its own, since he had the knack now for navigating the wild. But he did not rise again, stopped on one knee and braced against the outcrop of rock beside him. Zelda stopped on his other side, unsure of what had changed.

“Do you hear something?” she whispered. He didn’t look up. His hair, which he never quite managed to keep tied back and tidy, hid his gaze from her; but she saw the vicelike clench of his teeth, the tension in his neck muscles. All at once he tried to lurch to his feet, only for his knees to give again.

“Link!” Zelda caught his full weight against hers, and it was then that she felt the astonishing race of his heartbeat. She listened for the loud warning chirp the Sheikah Slate made whenever one of them was badly hurt, but the device at her hip did nothing.

Link’s silence was not what worried her now. Even before the Calamity he only ever spoke a few struggling words in moments of necessity. But perhaps all that hard-fought practice had been washed away in the years of sleep. At least now he seemed adjusted, comfortable and wholly himself in his silence.

He had never been _quiet,_ though _._ A hundred years ago his hands were often in motion, signing to her all his stubborn opinions about his duties. A few weeks back at their evening campfire, when he had first tried to explain to her what he knew would come, he’d signed long into the night to answer all her questions. He’d kept his eyes down, grim, explaining it all as he would the tactics of an enemy in battle. He never shied away from telling her the truth, not anymore.

She should have recognized the warning, that his hands had been so quiet today. Zelda sucked in a breath and braced her legs to support her retired knight. There was nothing for it now other than to help him get through it.

After a quick glance around to ensure their safety among the trees, Zelda reached and fumbled at the straps of the sword and shield at Link’s back. She helped him to sit against the mossy rock outcrop and studied him closely, just to confirm that no greater danger was at hand. The sight was a painful one all the same: Link’s face was sickly pale, sweat beading at his temple and eyes screwed shut as he fought to breathe. He tugged at the snaps in the leather armor near his neck, and Zelda hurried to help undo them. She had to be calm for him.

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” she said. Their hands were tangled together, over the erratic rise and fall of his chest. It was only a short moment before he squeezed her wrist. “Link, is there something around us that started this?”

He shook his head quickly. A hand jerked up for a moment, then the other, but the signs were rushed and incomplete in his struggle for breath. It seemed to her that was the first thing to get under control. She leaned forward and wrapped herself around him, gently, just enough to put her voice to his ear.

“All right,” she said. “It’s all right, we’re safe here. I’m going to take a breath now. I’d like you to try and do it with me, yes?”

She felt him try, heard the interrupting hitch in his chest and the grunt of frustration. She spoke softly to him all the while, announcing every breath before she took it, celebrating every time he could match it. It was a long process, and he shook so violently in her arms that it ached in her heart. She had to remind herself that though his pain was real, the danger was not.

When he first told her how this had started after he woke, before she could stop herself she had cried out in worry of it happening during combat. Link had only shrugged. The way he saw it, he carved his way through so many fights that if such a thing were possible it would have happened already. No, as far as he could tell the attack only came after things got too quiet. If the days were too peaceful for too long, that was always when it found him. Maybe a mental emergency drill, a punishment for getting complacent, a paranoia of monsters nearby and unnoticed. He’d ride out the storm of it for however long it took and then come out the other side, sore and exhausted.

_The first time it happened,_ he’d signed at the campfire, _I had a dream it was all empty._

“What was?” she’d asked. He shrugged again and made a sweeping gesture, out at the dusky valley below their camp. _No monsters. No people. No birds. Just me._ He gave her half a dry smile. _It was creepy. Woke up sweating._

It amazed her that he had described it so casually, now that she was holding him and feeling the panic wrack through his body. Zelda thought back to a different forest, when their places were swapped and she’d been in his arms. She’d just lost her father, had been in the process of losing her kingdom, but she’d had him. What might it be like, though, to wake in a strange cave, remembering nothing and nobody? A detached blank slate? It pained Zelda still that her calls to him from that timeless other place, however well she meant them, could be received only as the calls of a stranger. He’d had no one.

Link’s shivers were beginning to steady. Some strength had returned to his limbs and his arms slid around her, pulling her tighter to him. With no small amount of relief, Zelda sank into the embrace and paid attention to the slowing rhythm of his chest.

“That’s right,” she said. “No monsters hiding here. We’re safe.”

Zelda could feel the aftershock in his arms, the last hint of tremors like an electric current running through him. His grip was hot and damp, but she hardly cared. It was a sign of life in place of a cold weight in her lap, however much she tried to push that particular memory away.

“Do you know, Link,” she said slowly, “I wonder if this has anything to do with monsters at all. I wonder if—”

Abruptly she bit down on the words. She was theorizing again, slipping into analysis of a friend who hadn’t asked. She felt a calloused hand run through the hair down her back. It was a reflex of his, something he did whenever they embraced. Zelda was growing to despise the challenge of keeping her hair clean out here in the wild, but for the first time she found herself wondering if he would keep doing that if she cut it short.

Regardless, she recognized the air of his inviting silence. Encouraged, she went on.

“Well,” she said. “You said it only happens when things are too quiet…when you’re alone. At least when you are in combat you’re not alone…”

She wasn’t sure what to say from there. It felt ridiculous. Was she suggesting the monsters were keeping him company? _I had a dream it was all empty,_ he’d said…

“Do you ever feel so isolated,” she asked, “that you wonder if you’re still asleep?”

She felt a slight stiffness against her and cursed herself. She may have said too much and ruined their progress. After a moment, though, she felt the intake and release of a deep breath.

“That was a good one,” she said, smiling a little. In response Link’s arms folded tight around her again and he settled himself between her and the rock wall, burrowing his face into her neck. She could only imagine how spent he was. They’d be doing very little traveling after this.

To an extent, Zelda supposed the reasons didn’t matter. Being at his side wasn’t going to instantly fix the months of struggle, or the decades before that. This whole land needed to heal and rebuild, and Link wouldn’t be the only fighter working through echoes of the Calamity. All the same…

“I wish I could heal you,” Zelda murmured, her cheek on his shoulder. “The Goddess has mended people in the past. I could have done so much for you if I’d had that, if I had it now…”

She felt the hands on her back lift away, somewhere in space above her. Zelda rolled her eyes.

“Link, don’t talk where I can’t see you.”

She broke apart from him and sat up, pleased to notice the color returning to his face. For the first time since the ordeal had started, Link locked his eyes on hers as he repeated his gestures.

_You…are not…the Goddess._

Zelda bristled, an old part of her taking offense.

_You’re better._

As one they both froze, waiting for a flash in the sky or a rumble in the earth. The forest continued about its day unchanged, birds twittering between branches. It was a tad more than superstition after both of them had seen what She could do; but it appeared the blasphemy would go unchallenged today.

_Maybe She can’t read hands,_ Link suggested.

Zelda laughed and got to her feet.

“Indeed! As if She hasn’t shown her soft spot for you already.”


End file.
